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    About adrift

    Basic Information

    About adrift
    Country Flag:
    USA
    Location:
    Staten Island, NY
    Interests:
    Printmaking, Illustration, Bookbinding, Cycling, Comics, Geocaching
    Occupation:
    Visual Artist
    Gender:
    Male
    How you found us:
    Google

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    General Information
    Last Activity
    12-29-2018 04:42 AM
    Join Date
    06-17-2008
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    1

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    View adrift's Dream Journal

    Recent Entries

    My Dad and His Vagrant Son

    by adrift on 01-08-2015 at 04:24 PM
    In one dream, I am travelling through the Northeast on a trip to Connecticut. My plan is to visit with my ex-girlfriend Ellie. I remember starting out in Middleburgh and seeing Mom and Frank. At first I'm on my bike. It's a long bike tour and I have everything I need, making occasional stop. At another time I'm in a city bus approaching this beautiful town that sits along a river. Through the front window I see a church steeple as we rise over the crest of a hill. As I enter this town or small city I'm driving in my car but I'm having trouble controlling it. At more than a couple lights I either don't see the red light soon enough or the brakes are weak and I finally come to a stop mid-way through the intersection. In one instance I'm at a T-intersection in town, the brakes don't work in time and I'm out too far. I look behind me and back up to let traffic flow. When cars pull up behind me my brakes don't hold the car on the hill and I keep slipping back. When the light changes to green the accelerator doesn't react quick enough and the light changes back to red before I move. The cars behind me don't seem to mind. Frustrated though, I pull off the road onto a side street that looks like Main Street in Amsterdam.

    Dad appears. He wanted to catch up with my through my journey and see how I was doing. He arrives in the evening and we go up to the hill to look over town. I have my bike again. The town is beautiful. One of the few post-industrial towns on the river that have fared well over the last 50 years. We head down the highway back into town. We're both pretty tired, so Dad and I stop in Dunkin Donuts for two small coffees. Dad produces a bag and I think he wants to pay for it but I wave my hand. "I got this Dad" but it's not money in the bag it's a project I left behind in New York. I was making these little paper buildings for what could've been a model train. Dad had seen my layout drawings, cut them out and glued them himself. He did a pretty good job but I could tell they were glued with Rubber Cement. I'm still impressed. The is also a sheet of sketches I made. one was a construction of a skull. There were some errors, the Nasal Cavity was a little too big, for instance. Dad had written some notes at the top "Wow ! A+" etc.
    Categories
    non-lucid

    Useless Cops

    by adrift on 12-31-2014 at 04:26 PM
    I have returned to work as a courier and am riding my bike in Manhattan for the first time in long while. I have been riding around all day and now it is late afternoon and my shift is over. Towards the end of my shift I see a fellow messenger downtown who has been at it all day. "Must be picking up the late night deliveries" I think to myself.

    On my way home, I have to pass through my least favorite area - the west side of 57th st. I do not feel anxious or nervous, however. I'm aware of the dangers but am not afraid. The West Side / Chelsea is lumped together and looks quite a bit different. Above me is an overhead railway, to my right is a large block facing the river. Crossing 57th st, I see this white four-door make some unbelievable reckless move. First, he runs the light over 57th st (two lane traffic). He then must of realized he went the wrong way he pulls a u-turn, to go the wrong way back down the avenue to 57th, throws his car into the path of oncoming traffic to make a left hand turn. I am bewildered and outraged. I follow his car to the pier and he parks under the staircase to the restaurant he must deliver for.

    I park my bike nearby and look for any police officer to report this behavior to. Walking around the loop between the water and the avenue, a police car rolls up nearby. I flag them down. The scene turns to an interior. The two cops are talking to another man. One of the officers is out of uniform, missing his jacket. After the other guy leaves I try to explain what I saw, and point to the car from the window, which is trying to pull out from under the staircase across the block. I have to anxiously get the police officer to move so he can see. I am left with a "we'll go take a look" and I go back to my bike.

    The driver is outside when I pass by. Not the young person I thought he was but rather a squat, ruddy fellow in a coat and hat. Unable to vent myself, I let him know that the police are coming to look into your wreckless driving. Alarmed, but trying to shrug it off he follows me arguing with me but trying to show he's not concerned. I keep looking over my shoulder to see if the police officers are coming. They roll by as I'm unlocking my bike and I use my thumb to point the guy out.

    Having only one witness for these events, the cops don't have much to go by. They start walking away. The other police officer finally speaks: "You know what I think, Kid.. I don't see anything". The sun is now setting and a orange glow sets over the city. Frustrated I blurt out "I am so tired of useless cops, I'm sorry.. but.." My thoughts trail off. They leave. Riding back under the overhead railway I can see a broad view of the lower half of Manhattan to my right, as if from a raised expressway. In the warm haze the Statue of Liberty is still catching light,\ but the rest of the city now rests in the cool shadows. Factory smoke stacks stand out all along the water.
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